Survivalist
by Capricious Neophyte
Summary: It's been 365 days since your death, and I still have no clue what I'm doing. The children are happy again, but still I find myself struggling to smile. Haytham has been good to us, mother- you'd be so relieved. But something is troubling me. Who is this boy, Connor, and why does he insist that Mr. Kenway is evil? I need your guidance, mother, now more than ever. [Connor/OC]


**Hello! I won't take long, I just wanted to introduce this story! This is Survivalist (the name is subject to change), and will time skip from time to time, so I won't take you through all 365 days to get to the setting described in the summary. This first chapter is merely an introduction, and happens to be the first time Evangeline meets Haytham. From here on in, her life with the Assassins and Templars will begin. **

**Please let me know of any mistakes you see- I don't have a Beta reader and have to do all editing, myself. Criticism is the BEST, so please don't be afraid to tell me what you think! Feel free to give me any ideas or tips you may have as well, and I will likely be needing some OCs in the future, so keep that in mind if you are interested in including yours!**

**x Neophyte**

It's been only hours since you died and already I feel the pressure building. The children- Leon, Marcie, and Charlie are all crying, though Charlie and Marcie are both much too young to fully understand what your death means. The baby, which you died giving birth to, wails incessantly, and it's all Leon and I can do to keep the poor thing quiet so that the Redcoats do not come to snuff out the life you so recently brought into this world.

I wouldn't put it past them to commit such a heinous act.

While the children wallow in the misery that comes with the loss of a mother, I am forced to make a decision. Several, in fact. First and foremost being how to feed and care for this infant that now does not have a mother to nurse it, but our neighbor Mrs. Anderson just so happens to be willing to be his nursemaid- for a price. One that, unfortunately, I am barely able to pay. Your medicines and overall care had depleted our savings over the past few months, and there is little left to support our family in its meager life in Boston. With our money situation in mind, I move to the next responsibility you left to me; your funeral.

The doctor offers to inform our priest of your death for me, which I immediately agree to once I'm sure he wants nothing in return. With him out the door, I am able to turn back to the task of feeding the children and settling them down for the night, as it is fast approaching and the drums of the Redcoat soldiers outside increase as their patrol walks past. Leon, thankfully, has dried his tears and is now helping me to bake our meal, which if I'm honest, isn't much, but it will have to do. We have made many sacrifices for your health in the past months.

It is as Mrs. Anderson is finishing her task of nursing the newborn that the priest arrives, and with him, the daunting task of arranging your burial. Our priest is a kind man, as I'm sure you remember, with a full head of graying hair and a modest beard about him, but even so he cannot help with the funeral's expenses. I don't blame him- we are in a poor, rough neighborhood, and even our beloved Father has no money to spare. Still, he offers to do what he can, and will do the service itself for free, but there still remains the price of the burial itself, your coffin, and other things necessary for a proper burial. By the time he leaves, taking your body with him and an undertaker he'd previously summoned, my head is spinning with numbers and tasks to be performed.

The children are in bed, and Mrs. Anderson has offered to take the infant off my hands for a few days so that I might focus on the other children and your funeral service. I accept graciously, glad to be free of one more mouth to feed, if only for awhile. I send her away with some pounds I have on my person, with a half-hearted promise of more to come, and collapse into your old rocking chair to nurse my on-coming headache. However am I to pay for all of this? I do not know how you did it, dear mother. This is all too much for a seventeen year old girl to take on at once- especially one who already has to work as a seamstress just to help out with the money, and was forced to ask the young ones to sell newspapers to pick up the slack. It was terribly disheartening to do such a thing, but when you fell ill and could no longer work, I had to take your place- and you had already forbidden me from whoring myself as you had done most of your life.

But my options were running dry, and I fear that I may have lost my job as a seamstress at Madame Le Marienn's home, seeing as I have not reported for work at all in the past week, so what other choice did I have? I was pretty- you had told me so every day, when you were alive and well- and so I would fetch quite the price as a whore on the streets of Boston. What's more, I am also a virgin, and men have been known to pay a ransom for a pure girl. It could pay for the cost of your funeral, the children's meals and clothes, the baby's essentials, and what's more, I could send the children back to school!

Still, though I knew it would do more than support our family financially, my stomach churned at the thought of allowing strange men I did not know to fondle and take me repeatedly- and all for some money so that we might survive. The very thought disgusted me, but at my disgust, I became guilty- for you had done the very same thing for us, and I knew at heart that you were not worthy of the disgust that brewed in my heart.

The night grew nearer, and soon Leon was at my side, reporting to me that Marcie and Charlie were in bed and fast asleep, though their rest was fitful, and might he have something more to eat? He was awfully hungry, you see, we all were, but I had nothing to give him. I had used the last of our food to make our dinner- and had not even been able to eat anything, myself, so that the children would have more to nourish themselves with. Leon, being the second oldest at only twelve years of age, had also forfeited his meal so that the younger two could eat.

I sighed and beckoned for the boy to sit on my lap and began rocking as soon as he was comfortably nestled against me. I pulled my shawl, which was quite large, around the both of us, humming softly into his blonde hair as I thought. There was no food, so I might as well go buy some more from the store before it closed for the night, but I was wary to leave the children home alone at this time of night, and Leon's eyes were already drooping as I rocked him.

"I have to go fetch some more food from the market before they shut down, Leon. Look after the little ones while I am gone, alright? Do not let anyone in the house- if Redcoats come, tell them where I have gone. Hopefully, they will leave you all be." I murmured, ceasing my rocking and unwrapping my arms and shawl from his shoulders. He nodded sleepily, moving to leave my lap, and went to stand by the door to lock it behind me.

I already had some pounds hidden away in a purse I'd sewn into the folds of my dress, so all there was to do before I left was to pull on some shoes and tie my long dark hair back, before topping it off with a hooded robe that Leon handed to be as I left our decrepit house. I slipped the dark cloth over my shoulders as he shut and locked the door, pulling the drawstrings at my neck tight and pulling up the hood to shield my face from the night chill.

There were still many people walking the streets, with made me glad as I blended with them to avoid any men who might recognize me. My mother was a popular whore in these parts, and unfortunately, many knew me by association. Not only that, my father was the town drunk, though it was unusual for a whore's children to know the identity of their father, and currently he was at a nearby tavern, wasting away money he didn't have and ignoring the fact that the woman he once loved was now dead. He had once been lovers with my mother, you see, before she became a whore, but he left her as soon as she became pregnant. Our relationship was strained, and for years I had decided to only contact him when I was in dire need of coin to buy food with.

A time such as now, it would seem.

With taxes being enforced by the British, food was far too expensive, and I knew my meager coin would not buy much out here. That being said, I first set course for my father's favorite tavern, the Green Dragon, before heading toward the markets. He would almost certainly be there, but it was unknown whether or not he'd have any coin to spare. This was my main worry, as he was often poorer than our own family- though he never dared to admit it- and hardly had anything to give- or should I say, to be taken.

The tavern came into my sight quickly enough, and I began tugging at the edges of my hood nervously. I never did like going into such places- too many people, too many men that might recognize me- but it was a necessary evil. I'd probably end up frequenting such places anyway, as I might have to resort to prostitution to feed the children. It was not something I looked forward to.

A Redcoat patrol passed me by, and I hurried to slip inside the tavern's walls. Confrontations with those men was never a joyful thing, and I found most days I'd rather deal with drunks than those British troops. The inside of the tavern was noisy, only serving to inflame my headache further, but I endured it as I pulled down my hood and faced the approaching owner, Catherine Kerr.

"He's upstairs, dearie." The woman told me without any questions asked, and I smiled in thanks before braving the staircase to the second floor. The noises were actually less irritating up here, if you'd believe it, which was surprising to me, as my father was quite the noise-maker. Nevertheless, I glanced around the small area that made up the second floor and honed in on the town drunk, Tomas Michaelis himself, sitting with a decently large group of men at the only table available up here.

Approaching with caution, I forced myself to ignore the stares I was gaining as I came up to the side of the table, right next to my father. I folded my hands within the large sleeves of my robe, clearing my throat politely when I realized my father had not noticed my arrival. He immediately looked up at me, his watery blue eyes confused, before breaking out into a open-mouthed grin and grabbing me about the waist.

"Well, if it ain't my lil' princess, herself! Gentlemen, this is my daughter, the dear Lady Evangeline Corinne! Fancy, ain't she?" he chortled to himself, drawing a soft frown onto my face as his "friends" greeted me. They all seemed far superior to my father, save for one, as they all dressed in fine clothes and seemed rather above him than most of the patrons there, and this only served to raise questions in my mind as to why they'd socialize with the town drunk, of all people.

"I need money." I stated blandly, forcefully removing his arm from me as I stared the drunken mess down. He sobered up immediately, squinting as if he couldn't quite see me, despite me being right in front of him.

"Why's that, love? I do believe I gave you some pounds just last week, didn't I? I hardly think ya need a new dress so quick." He replied meanly.

I sighed, trying to keep myself from lashing out at the man, and did my best to respond to him politely. "I don't have enough to purchase food for the children and myself, what with prices being so high. And I need even more to pay for mother's… expenses." He didn't have the right to know that you had passed.

"_Expenses?_ Whut, you think I'm just gonna finance her bad habits? Hah! That whore can go find a new sugar daddy to give feed her filthy chillun and all that, what do I care?" he burst out. His companions had grown completely silent now, their beady eyes focused on our exchange as I grew uncomfortable in my attempts to restrain my rage.

"She can't." I managed to utter, swallowing the tears that burned at the corner of my eyes. He only laughed louder and continued to rant and rave about you, saying nasty things I dare not repeat and making a fool of us both. I will say, though, that you and the young ones were not the only ones he insulted, though he did focus mainly on you all- he also targeted me, teasing me for pretending to be a "proper yun' lady" and prancing about town looking for suitors. My face was so red with rage, mother! It took everything in me to keep from beating him down to size, but unfortunately I could not restrain my mouth after being so humiliated by that man.

"SHE'S _DEAD,_ YOU BLUNDERING IDIOT!"I shouted, his ramblings ceasing at once. He had jumped when I spoke out, and now stared at me, bewildered as tears began to fall from my eyes. "All she ever did was love you, and you abandoned her! Left her cold and hungry on the streets, forcing her to whore herself so that she might feed herself and the child growing inside of her- me! She was stronger than any woman I have ever met, more beautiful than any you will ever hope of being with again, and yet you insult her like this? How _dare_ you? And now, as her children lay at home starving and dreaming of living a life where they do not have to work all day and slave away just to earn a meager pay, your only child- at least the only one who _bothers_- is asking you for _only a few pounds_ just so she might afford a decent meal for these young ones, and you respond with ignorance and hatred! Mother only died a few hours ago, and already the children are starving, Charlie is falling ill, the baby has to nurse from a woman who is not its mother, the funeral is sucking our remaining funds practically _dry,_ and all you can do is sit here and belittle the only woman who could stand your disgusting habits?" My chest was heaving as I finished my tirade, my arms sore from flailing about in my fit of rage, and I hurried to wipe away my tears as my fists clenched together.

"You're a pathetic, little man who sits here, getting drunk off his arse and moaning and _bitching _about how _awful _your life is when you do not even know what true misery is!" I spat at him. I reached over and snatched his coinpurse, which I recognized by its ratty appearance, before shoving it into the front of my dress. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be off to put your pathetic funds to good use- feeding four children and ensuring my _mother_ gets the burial she deserves!"

I was gone before he or his companions could so much as utter another word.


End file.
